Abstract

Discussing prison is always a difficult topic. The United States, considered a beacon of democracy, has the largest prison population in the world. There is a massive collusion of state and corporate power that has created this phenomenon, called the Prison Industrial Complex (PIC). To reinforce that power, to build this system of mass incarceration, we are trained to label those who are sent to prison as undeserving of compassion. An important question arises to those of us who are concerned about democracy and social justice—how do you transform an inherently unjust system?
To address these concerns, prison abolitionists have expanded their work by blending social activism and arts practices. Music-Making in U.S. Prisons: Listening to Incarcerated Voices, by Mary L. Cohen and Stuart P. Duncan, argues that prison programs that offer theater, painting, and music have the ability both to empower the incarcerated and to build healing, caring relationships with outside stakeholders that can challenge the cruelty of the PIC. This book focuses on musical arts groups within prisons because the process of making music offers the ability to have a shared experience that is deeply embodied and emotional, increasing the potential for compassion and humanizing effects on and toward the prison population. To improve this potential, each chapter of the book discusses important historical and practical themes that music educators running a prison music program might need to know, such as the history of making music in prisons, the benefits and greater ease of running a choral versus an instrumental program, and the power of songwriting.
The book is primarily dedicated to those who are leading or working in prison music programs, but there are other audiences who may find this work useful. Those working in prisons making music will learn several bits of practical advice. People involved in prison abolition work will find several ways to strengthen their activism through a more emotionally connected approach. Ideally, policymakers and stakeholders who approve of and fund prisons will see the value in compassionate, humanistic approaches to incarceration. Finally, for those in prison and those who have incarcerated loved ones, this book offers many opportunities to grieve and empathize with those who have struggled hard and are suffering in an increasingly cruel system.
Overall, the work aims to discuss making music in prison and to empower those involved with the knowledge of previous programs and the humanistic benefits of such groups. Toward that aim this book is helpful. There are several points of insight and good practical advice. There is a great explanation of the origins of the PIC in slavery and a review of abolition work. There are discussions about understanding inmates’ concerns regarding band membership and gang rivalries or changes in sentencing law, egos and joining the choir, and controversial song material. The book is a good starting place for such music educators.
Unfortunately, the book also suffers from a few significant issues. The predominant one is its abolitionist orientation. While the introduction of this book centers music-making in prison as the newest extension of prison abolition work, there isn't any actual abolition work in the book beyond that point. The work is overwhelmingly accommodational in its approach to prison—as it should be. Any work or any person who offered actual abolition work would likely not be permitted in prison, and several times in the book this is acknowledged. As such, the focus on abolition in the introduction feels somewhat hollow or like a symbolic theme used to give these arts programs greater significance.
Second, if prisons are inherently unjust systems, we can ask if it's appropriate to discuss programs that only make life in prison slightly more tolerable. The book cites the benefits of a prison music program in Israel, a country many feel is inherently a racist, apartheid state. Since it is acknowledged that the PIC comes from slavery, one could also ask if music programs would have been beneficial to the slaves as well. This question may yield positive results, but it isn’t abolition work either.
Third, the benefits of music programs listed are significant, but I wonder how they would compare to other services that might be more beneficial for addressing prisoners’ feelings, such as group therapy. Also, the book repeatedly mentions how grateful the prisoners are for such programs; however, they are in a total institution with few rights, so, again, this affirmation is valid for accommodating prisoners within the system but is not a path to ending prison.
Finally, the largest drawback about this work is the lack of outright discussion about the positionality of those who work in prisons. The author does discuss the power differences between outsiders and prisoners and how they create different perceptions, but this is done only in brief anecdotes or words of caution, not a full discussion. As a pedagogical work that aims to strengthen the emancipatory potential of arts programming, this is a serious oversight. One would think a full, transparent discussion about the position of the music educator, their privileges, how these affect their work, and what the reader can do about these things would be central for effective prison justice work; yet these are more side comments or “last thoughts” here. Also, there is a constant talk of how such programs empower inmates, but never what they are supposed to do (or have done) once they are empowered. Again, it makes the abolition focus of this book seem somewhat superficial. I should also note that the book does not offer any discussion about race or poverty—another glaring oversight.
While this work was an enjoyable read, and it certainly achieved its goal of humanizing prisoners and showing the value of music education within the PIC, those who are looking for true abolition potential may find this work quite touching but lacking in ideas for obtaining an America with fewer prisons.
